Lycanthrope
by jiapryor
Summary: After Scott accidentally kills Derek's sister, a battle ensues between the two, leaving one beta dead.


**This takes place in an _Alternate Universe_ where Scott is trying to become apart of Derek's pack. Derek is the newly-turned leader who has not taken the role of the alpha yet. The characters are _Out of Character_. I hope you enjoy!**

**I own nothing!**

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><p><strong>Lycanthropy:<strong>

It's comical how fear can twist us, make us do things we'd never dream of doing, and make those things okay. It can make situations okay that wouldn't be otherwise, until it's over, and that moment of clarity consumes you remains perplexing to a majority of the residents of the world in which we are inhabitants of. It completely envelops you and drowns you.

_Dead leaves crunched under my feet as I raced forward. Several snarls erupted from their orifices behind me, and if possible, my senses became even more vigilant for a mortal. Not being cognizant of the current situation had distorted my perceptions, and I was quickly taught just how detrimental that could be. _

_I glanced up towards the east, and the horizon was in my line of vision. I willed myself to transition into a lycanthrope. My skin instantaneously tightened from the bone growth taking place inside of me. I clenched my teeth together in a futile attempt to diminish the pain. I slid myself behind a large willow tree, the long vines of leaves protruding from its branches, shielding me from the foes. _

_I felt the bones in my nose grow longer as a snout appeared. Abruptly, my sense of smell had increased substantially. My limbs elongated themselves, and curved claws appeared at the ends of each of my phalanges. My body shuddered tremendously as the transformation completed itself, leaving me as one of the countless myths that were said to never be true. My sight became a rubicund night vision, heightening my ability to see. _

_I became infuriated at the thought of the _others_ trying to destroy our home—the fuckers._

_I impatiently waited behind the tree trunk for any signs of the oncoming enemy. I heard their paws pad over the leaves, circumspect as to not make any sudden sounds that could alert its opposing pack. The other lycanthrope, unaware of my current position, swiftly made its way past me, but I emerged from behind the tree and impaled its back with my claws. The other wolf shrieked, and its howls echoed throughout the wide expansion of the morning sky. _

_Pinks, yellows, light blues, and oranges swirled together. I instantly retracted my claws from its back and deeply inhaled the residue of the sanguine on my claws. Feeling uneasy, I recognized the scent. It was Nathaniel's, the chief of our pack's sister. I gaped at the ground and saw her writhing in her position on the ground, her howls becoming weak and less in intervals; she was dying. Gradually, her form returned back to her human shape. The early morning sunlight illuminated the contours of her body. Everything in the forest had suddenly ceased its movement and sound, allowing me to hear the subsiding heartbeats of my pack member. _

_Tension and silence created noises that I hadn't normally paid attention to._

_~•~•~•~_

That morning led me to where I was now, the Hall of Sagitnais, where our newly-turned pack leader, Derek Hale resided. I was undergoing the trial that could literally make me or break me. Some other psychotic lycanthrope, which happened to be the alpha to his pack, had bitten me...against my will. I was shitty. Derek had taken me into his pack, giving me the opportunity to abandon the alpha's ownership on my body.

I was in debt to him.

Even though it was a war, and adrenaline was pumping throughout our bodies, making us to react without thinking to any possible situation, Derek allowed no room for nothing _less_ than perfection.

"Your name?" The bass voice resonated within the confinements of the gargantuan scope.

I shook my head and ran my fingers through my dark, unkempt, curly locks. "Scott McCall."

"Age?" the man inquired even though he was quite aware of all of the information he was asking me.

"I'm seventeen," I answered uneasily. "I'll be eighteen by the next shift in our rotation."

Wearily shaking his head, the older man threw the gavel down on the podium. "You murdered my sister!" he snarled. It caught me by surprise. "The heir to the leader of this pack! She was the last of the Hale's, and you've killed her, you bastard.

"Now what happens when I've deceased? Scott, why weren't you paying attention? There is absolutely _no_ reason for carelessness in this pack, and you don't seem to respect the rules. I don't know what to do anymore." He paused and glanced at his council men. A silent exchange of words had been spoken through their eyes. "But…" he began slowly, "an eye for an eyes, a tooth for a tooth, _a life for a life_, correct? Your day has already begun by killing my sister. Everything comes to an end eventually, right?"

"I—I guess so," I answered shakily. My fingers nervously gripped the edge of my sweatpants. Because we were not allowed to wear shirts in the Hall of Sagitnais, my chest was bare. My left hand grazed over the set of muscles and scars I had obtained within the years.

He smirked at me and spoke, "Well then, I suppose it's settled. You decided your fate, Scott. Tonight at sun set will be your punishment. You are dismissed."

I could feel my face contort into an expression of shock. "W—what?" I asked. "No! No! I didn't mean to… it was an accident. Why would I kill somebody from our pack _purposely_?"

"I don't know, why would you?" he retorted. "Goodbye, Mr. McCall." With a wave of his hair fur covered hands, guards emerged from closed doors and escorted me out. They expelled me from their arms and threw me to the ground. My body visibly shook from suppressed rage. I pounded my fists on the door in a mad frenzy, anything to make that son of a beast come out.

"She never wanted you!" I hollered. I heard an entourage of guards throw them selves at the door. I glanced down at my knuckles; they were raw from battering the door down.

"Who never wanted me?" I heard him bark through the wooden doors.

"Your wife! She died because you weren't her mate anymore..._emotionally_ at least. She couldn't love an egotistical tyrant who was so absorbed with himself. She didn't love that. _That's_ why she died!" I screamed. My vocal chords were being stressed. The doors were suddenly jolted open, and Derek strode out, a look of pure contempt evident on his face.

"You have absolutely no right whatsoever to speak about Lyuna!" His ragged claw jutted out from his index finger and barely made contact with the tip of my slightly pointed nose.

"Why?" I retorted back. "Is it because she'd rather be dead than married to someone as belligerent as you?"

"Take that back!" he roared. His face gradually transitioned into a color of rubicund from the amount of stress. "You take that back or so help me I'll kill you right now," he threatened.

"She only loved you because of the status you held. Nothing was real. Your relationship with her was a façade," I whispered directly into his face. "Your love was like the sun. When you first held real power, the sun was rising. When you died out, like your love, the sun was setting."

His body shuddered and before I knew it, there Derek stood, in his lycanthrope form. I gasped in surprise.

_Why would he go to such desperate measures? Did he really see me as an equal in terms of power?_

His paw swiped at my head and I ducked down to the floor. He had managed to scathe my shoulder; I firmly grasped it to stop the effusion of blood. A sound emitted from his mouth somewhat between a cackle and a snarl. I was positive that I didn't have time to will myself to transform. Earlier, it had taken so much energy for me.

Derek knew we were playing a game, and he was the only one who knew the rules. _Damn it. _

Instead of retaliating to his instigating, I grabbed a bamboo stick from the vase and wielded it in my hands for defense. Derek slowly approached me, his shoulder blades lifting and lowering as he slinked forward. We rotated in circles, eye contact never faltering. He suddenly brought his paw up and slammed it down on the tile floor, startling me. He used that moment as an opportune time to attack me.

Unfortunately for him, I was prepared, and as he stealthily advanced, I minutely stepped forward. Abruptly springing, he impaled himself on my bamboo stick. The tropical plant rod was sticking out of his eyes socket. I noticed that the jagged edges of my make-shift weapon were showing through his coarse fur in the nape of his neck. My eyes visibly widened at the realization.

I had murdered our pack leader.

Like his sister in the previous morning, his body writhed on the ground, convulsing rapidly. Knots of fur fell from his body. Instead of gradually transforming back to his human self, Derek remained a wolf. To say I was perplexed was an understatement. For the first time, I noticed that his guards had stood by and let us brawl.

"Why?" I asked simply.

"Why what?" a guard retorted.

"Why didn't you protect Derek? He was our leader," I elucidated for him.

He chuckled and then smirked at me. "He was an ass. Personally, I never liked him. He was too much of a whiner. All talk, no action—the little bitch." His fangs glinted as the sun reflected off of the windows. I could sense it was evening. The day had worn on rather quickly—_too_ quickly for me. He spoke up, and I jumped a bit. "Let's get you a room. You have a coronation to attend."

"Who?" I inquired, shocked at who they had in line already.

"You, McCall." I didn't like people referring to me by my last name. What was the first for? "You rid us of a corrupt king; it is you who takes his place."

_~•~•~•~_

A new start. A way to fix your mistakes. My coronation had been short, abrupt, and far from spectacular—not that I minded. I was happy that it was low key and quick. Not many people knew that a change in the monarchy was being made, and I couldn't care less.

Shortly after the function, I sauntered up to my room. My shoulder still ached, but the pain was becoming a distant twinge. Nothing from the present past had escaped from my mind, and I was sure that I would never forget it.

I gazed out of the window as the sun set. Night was falling. The setting horizon produced a crimson red emanating from the contours of the clouds. With all starts oddly absent, a full moon illuminated the firmament. My spine tingled with excitement as I felt my bones begin to shift.

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><p><strong>Oh, gosh, I butchered this. I'm really sorry for it. Mind telling me what you thought? :) Thank you so much for taking the time to read this!<strong>

**_-Jia Marie_**


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